Human Condition
by Lady Isludis
Summary: A man wakes in a hotel room with no recollection of who he is or how he got there. (RE-WRITE COMING SOON!)
1. Wakeup Call

He awoke in a cheap hotel room.

One that looked as if it'd barely survived a large quake.

Much of the furniture was broken, with doors hanging off hinges, a mini-fridge that wouldn't stay latched, and pieces of crumbled plaster scattered across the floor. Light fixtures dangled or had completely snapped, in some cases leaving wiring exposed. Over in the corner was a potted plant that had been reduced to a sickly twig. There was a wooden desk at the foot of the bed that looked to have partially collapsed, and a barely-standing chair by the window. If you could even call it a window anymore, it was so filthy that it was impossible to see anything on the outside.

Overall, the state of the room hinted at a recent disaster, or tremendous neglect. Damn near unlivable if he was honest! Had he slept through the apocalypse? Why did his head hurt? It bothered him that he couldn't answer any of those.

In fact, he was having trouble remembering a great deal of things. Simple things, like his name. Who was he? Where had he come from? At the very least, he should be able to answer that, but he couldn't, and that was upsetting.

He laid there for a moment, fighting for full consciousness when he heard a muffled voice in the background.

"Good morning! You have been in suspension for-"

Suspension, what was that all about?

All he wanted to do was roll back over and drift back to sleep for a couple of centuries. His eyelids were heavy and his body felt so fatigued and heavy that even moving was a chore. Just as well, he was so dizzy that it felt as if his head might fall backward through the pillow. It was the kind of thing that seemed physically impossible until you actually experienced it for yourself, like being simultaneously hungry and full.

He found himself straining to focus his vision; squinting only helped a little bit, and if he did it for too long his eyes would get sore. That could likely be attributed to the exhaustion, at least in part.

Trying to sit up was a huge mistake, as he was immediately overwhelmed and flopped back on the bed, taking deep breaths to avoid passing out or throwing up, or any combination of the two.

Not the best way to start the day.

"In compliance with federal and state regulations, all testing candidates in the Aperture Science long-term relaxation centre must be revived periodically for a mandatory physical and mental-wellness exercise!"

Exercise. Right. Item one on the list of things that were absolutely never going to happen! They'd have to physically come in here and drag him out've bed, perhaps resort to posing him like a rag doll or attaching strings to some of his limbs. He honestly doubted he could manage on his own right now.

"You will hear a buzzer." The voice explained. "When you hear the buzzer, look up at the ceiling."

As promised, a loud noise cut through the small room, making him cringe. God, he hoped that wasn't going to happen again. Lucky for him, he was flat on his back and there was not much to do from there _but_ look up.

It was then he noticed a metal rail – mounted to the ceiling – that ran from just above his bed over to the door to the room. What an odd fixture for a hotel. What could it possibly be used for?

"Good." The announcer's voice pulled him back from his thoughts. "You will hear a buzzer. When you hear a buzzer, look down at the floor."

Again, the buzzer rang out, further aggravating his headache. He supposed he might as well try rolling over; at least that way if he threw up it wouldn't get on the bed, or on him. That would be disgusting and probably make him want to vomit even more, triggering a vicious cycle that would make him feel even more miserable than he already did.

The simple act of turning his head intensified the dizziness, and he had to take a moment to let it subside before he was able to successfully flip onto his side. As far as he was concerned, that was more than enough exercise for one day.

"Good. This completes the gymnastic portion of your mandatory physical and mental-wellness exercise."

He sighed gratefully.

"There is a framed painting on the wall. Please go stand in front of it."

No, thank you. He'd much rather go back to sleep, if that was at all an option. He was fairly certain that if he attempted to stand up right now, he'd collapse and black out on the floor. How did head-turning qualify as gymnastics, but not walking?

That didn't make any sense. Nothing made sense! They should just let him nod off for a while and wake him up again when his life had sorted itself out. Then he'd go home and carry on with his life. Wherever home was. Did he have one?

While he lay there, the buzzer sounded again, as if to berate him for taking such a long time. He whimpered, and tried to cover his head with a pillow. The bedding had a very musty, sweaty sort of smell but he ignored it because it was between him and the floor, and that's all he needed.

He tried ignoring the buzzer as well but it would periodically go off again and again, as if it were trying to tell him to hurry up. It was hard to get much rest under those conditions. He had no idea how long that cycle went on for, but it did absolutely nothing for his headache. Sleep was out've the question, no matter how tired he was. It made him want to cry!

At some point, he did try to stand up, only to collapse onto the floor like his legs were made of jello. He remembered the mechanics of walking – that is, he remembered how he was supposed to do it, but for some reason was having substantial difficulty putting that knowledge into practice.

Dark spots danced at the edges of his vision, and his skin felt cool and clammy. Well, there was no going back now. He highly doubted he'd be able to pull himself back up onto the bed again. The sheets didn't allow him to get a proper grip.

The best he could manage was to lean against the bed and let his head rest on the mattress.

Why hadn't someone come along and found him? Was anyone even looking for him? Was it just coincidence? Bad luck? Or had he made enemies? Why wouldn't he remember something important like that? The more he thought about it, the more hopeless and frightened he felt. What in the bloody hell had happened to him? What if he never got out? He didn't want to be stuck in this place by himself!

He didn't want to die!

The sound of quiet sobbing accompanied the buzzer, and warm tears streamed down his face.

The painting was only a few feet away, but it might as well have been a mile. Couldn't they have hung it just a bit lower, and closer to where he sat? That would've been brilliant!

Unfortunately, there was nobody in the room with him to make that happen. Looking up at it from the floor had apparently not satisfied who or whatever was responsible for that awful buzzer – and he can't say he was surprised. The voice had said to go and _stand_ in front of the painting – standing had been an explicit part of the instruction – so it was apparent that standing was a requirement to progress.

It was beginning to look like he really would be stuck here on the floor for an eternity. Not that he had any immediate objections to keeping still, if it would save him from losing his last meal, whenever that had been.

As if on cue, his stomach gurgled noisily.

He hated feeling so vulnerable.

* * *

" _Hello? Anyone in there?"_

* * *

He jolted awake before he could slide off the bed, instinctively flinging one arm over the mattress to catch himself. When had he fallen asleep? The buzzer wasn't blasting him anymore, either due to technical difficulties or the party responsible for triggering it had taken a break, or given up completely – not that he was complaining. A moment's peace was better than nothing.

He yawned, using his free hand to rub the sleep from his eyes, noticing that he felt much better than he had earlier. He was still fatigued, but it felt less like his muscles had forgotten how to work and more like he was tired from running a marathon. Hardly ideal, but it was a drastic improvement. His headache was all but gone, and he didn't feel very nauseous or dizzy anymore, but he was a little bit hungry. Also, it sounded like someone had been knocking at the door not a moment ago. Curious, he got up and moved to answer it, stumbling over debris on the way. Maybe someone had found him and brought food? He could always hope!

The door was wedged in an awkward position, making it extremely difficult for him to get it open. Pulling harder only caused the metal handle to break away. He tried using that to pry the remaining wooden slab away from the frame, but only managed to get it wedged in the gap. It wouldn't do him any good that way.

He sighed, and allowed his arms to drop to his sides in defeat. There had to be some other object in this room that he could use.

One of the drawers was stuck partially open, so he started by feeling around inside there and uncovered a pen and a water-damaged notepad. The logo on which was so faded that he could only make out two letters: A-p. The rest of it was blotted out. The pen was dark green, with a gold coloured trim. It was far too light to be anything but cheap, and it didn't even write anymore. The ink must've been used up – or dried out, a long time ago. Both were discarded. He looked through some of the other drawers – or what was left of them – but didn't find anything else of interest.

There was nothing on or in the mini-fridge he could salvage, and even if there had been food or liquid in it, he doubted it would've stayed fresh for very long. There was a microwave sitting on top, but he didn't really want to mess with it. Finally, he paused in front of the rickety old chair. It seemed like it might fall apart if he put weight on it, and a quick jiggle confirmed that the screws in the wood were just barely hanging on. If he wanted to, he could rip off a piece.

He couldn't help but notice that he was standing in front of the painting now, and laughed to himself as he stood up from leaning over the chair. He couldn't imagine doing this before, and he doubted that any of the furniture would support him well enough to keep him from falling over if he'd needed to resort to that.

Not to mention, the room seemed so much smaller now. Perhaps it was his height. Had he always been this tall?

"This is art. You will hear a buzzer. When you hear the buzzer. Stare at the art."

Yet again, the buzzer sounded, followed by an audible ticking noise. So he "stared" at the painting – admittedly not getting much from it. The frame was crooked, and the image it contained illustrated a dark, spooky landscape. He wasn't sure he liked the look of it. Had he ever had an appreciation for art? Was he even the creative type?

Why did they want him to look at it anyway? Was he supposed to remember something about it and impress somebody with his knowledge of art later?

The buzzer sounded again, making him jump a little. So that was definitely back. He feared that if they kept it up, trying to deafen him all willy-nilly like this, his headache might return with a vengeance!

"You should now feel mentally invigorated. If you suspect staring at art has not provided the required intellectual sustenance, reflect briefly on this classical music."

He rolled his eyes. Well, at least this was better than-

*BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZT*

"Good. Now please return to your bed."

He scoffed. NOW they were sending him back to bed? He was beginning to feel tired again, but that didn't make this situation any less ridiculous. He was beginning to wonder if someone hadn't put him here on purpose. Either way, he was happy to flop back down on the bed.

* * *

After a decently long rest, he woke up to a growling stomach.

There was no robotic "good morning", or any sudden noises to startle him this time – which was preferable. Except for the state of the hotel room, it would've been easy to convince himself that it had all been a dream. There had been no annoying buzzer, no voice, and nobody trying to torture him into doing gymnastics. Just a disaster area – although that by itself was still mildly disconcerting.

The front door was still stuck closed, so he tried the one place he hadn't thought to look yet – the bathroom. It was in just as poor a state, littered with tiny bottles of what had once been soap and shampoo. All of them had since evaporated or solidified – depending on the bottle. The toilet bowl was cracked and filthy. Flushing proved to be fruitless with no water left in the toilet bowl, instead it caused the plumbing to groan and protest.

There was a badly cracked mirror on the wall, so he only saw random fragments of his reflection. Pale skin, light brown hair, and orange clothing. He hadn't been paying much attention until then, but he was wearing an orange jumpsuit that seemed just a bit too small for him. It's sleeves ended at mid-forearm, and the pants only reached his calves. He didn't have shoes or socks.

The sink barely produced any water, but what came out had a brownish, rusty tinge, so he didn't even touch it. In the end, he ended up wiping his hands on his pant legs – like any other fellow caught without a bottle of hand sanitizer – and decided to carry on until he could find some other way.

The door was still stuck the way he'd left it, with what had once been the handle so tightly wedged that he didn't think he'd be able to get it out. That left the chair. With any luck the wood wouldn't break before he could get the damn door open!

Pulling apart the broken chair was more difficult than he'd anticipated, as even the loose screws proved to be a hindrance. He received a few superficial scratches and nicks but eventually managed to break off a leg – not his, the chair's. That would've been horrendous and probably – definitely – painful.

Returning to the door, he experimented with different configurations, and finally found a crack that looked big enough to jam a piece of wood into. It wasn't quite enough, so he went back and forth between the chair and the door, breaking off more pieces of wood. It wasn't until he'd managed to work five or six of them into the cracks that he became annoyed, resorting to punching, kicking, and even running at it.

Finally, the door buckled, and he was able to pull it down. He sighed, wiping some sweat off his forehead with the back of one hand. He definitely couldn't have done this earlier. His legs were beginning to feel wobbly again as it was.

With the way clear, he proceeded to take his first look outside of the hotel room. What he found made him wish that he'd stayed inside.

Normally, when you stroll out of a room, you'd probably expect to find a hallway. That's what he thought as well, but what he got was absolutely, 100% NOT a hallway!

The whole hotel room had been neatly (but only in the metaphorical sense) packed into a metal shipping container. Said container was currently suspended over the deepest pit he ever recalled seeing in his life. Not that he could confirm that with any accuracy at the moment, because his memory was a complete fog.

Just looking at it made him feel wobbly and unstable, so he clung tightly to the doorframe to avoid tumbling into the abyss. He couldn't find the bottom, and didn't bother trying to guess either. How was the container being held up anyway? There was a lot of rust on the box-

Now he was feeling sick again.

There was a metal catwalk that lead from the container to a large, circular port across the way, but that involved crossing the pit of death. On the other hand, if he stayed here he'd be at the mercy of the heavy container that hovered over the pit of death, until it decided to fall into the pit of death with him in it.

So it was the pit of death, or the pit of death...

At least the catwalk lead to somewhere that looked less like the pit of death. There didn't appear to be any other way...

Firmly grasping the handrails on both sides of the catwalk, he inched along at a snail's pace, freezing like a deer in the headlights whenever metal creaked or groaned under his weight. He said a silent prayer that the whole thing didn't buckle and doom him to the pit of death.

Fortunately, the catwalk held. He was immeasurably glad that it was stronger than it looked!

After an eternity, he reached the door, and was greeted by stark white tiles as he stepped inside. This new room was much bigger than the hotel room, with a high ceiling and no windows, save for one that was situated high enough on the wall that it was effectively unreachable. It was also frosted, so he couldn't clearly see what lay beyond it. Near as he could tell, there didn't appear to be anyone back there – unless they were ducking down to avoid being seen.

Something about the room made him feel self conscious, and he held his arms close to his body as he felt a very slight chill in the air. He was being watched.

Suddenly, the door behind him slammed shut with a bang, nearly causing him to jump out've his own skin.

With the way he'd come in now blocked, he frantically began looking for another exit. Aside from the frosted window – there was no other opening to the outside world. None of the white tiles seemed to have cracks or gaps he could use to pry them loose, and even if there were, he had nothing to pry them with. He couldn't even climb up to the window, because the walls offered no form of grip or foothold.

So he was trapped.

Trapped was better than the pit of death, but not by much.

He backed up against a wall, desperately trying to calm himself and think! There had to be some way out, right? He couldn't be stuck in a hermetically sealed room for the rest of his life, could he? Maybe the wall would pop open and someone would yell "Surprise! I made it all up! I only pretended I was going to murder you.", and then confetti would rain down from somewhere.

But nothing moved. No walls. No confetti.

As he waited for some means of escape to make itself apparent, the familiarity of the situation struck him. Rooms filled with sterile white tiles, heavy circular doors, orange jumpsuits – his head started to hurt as he strained to remember. One thing was for certain though, all of these details were connected.

Just then, another synthesized voice rang out in the chamber – this time, female, and for a second or two, he forgot how to breathe.

"Hello, Moron."

He held his knees to his chest, trying to make himself as small as possible.

"I suppose you're looking for some kind of explanation as to why you're here."

He knew that voice...

"There were quite a few things I wanted to do with you, but let's just say my curiosity got the better of me. Don't worry though, we'll still get to all of that-"

He knew her. Why did he know her?

"-But first, let's play a little game." A large chunk of white tile sunk into the ground in front of him, and in it's place a big, circular red button popped up. "You do remember buttons, don't you?"

Did he? He definitely recalled seeing buttons like this before, and there had been quite a few of them.

 _Don't do it._

Why were buttons important?

 _Yes! Do do it!_

His head was pounding...

 _Don't press that button!_

Should he press it?

 _No! I forbid you to press it!_

Would something bad happen if he did? Now he felt sick again.

 _Press it! Press the button!_

Did something happen before?

 _DO NOT PRESS IT!_

It might be a way out've this room. There was nothing else...

 _PRESS IT!_

Stumbling forward, he put his weight on the button. Across the room, some wall panels folded back to reveal a hallway.

An exit!

Huh... he thought he'd checked everywhere. Then again, the button hadn't been revealed until now. As he made his way towards the exit, he stepped off of the button, and the panels folded right back into place. Suddenly, there was a loud *CLUNK* from just behind him, and he spun round to find a huge grey cube on the floor.

"Oops, that one almost hit you, didn't it? My bad. I'll try harder next time."

He shivered. Well, that wasn't ominous at all, was it? Who was this person, and why were they so nonchalant about dropping heavy objects on him? After fumbling around for several minutes, he'd confirmed that the door would only be accessible if his weight was on the button. How maddening!

Then of course, there was that cube. Was it heavy enough to keep the button down? He tried picking it up but couldn't support it's weight and toppled backward. The cube landed heavily on his chest, winding him.

Right, that was out. Mental note: cubes are heavy. Avoid being crushed by one.

Sliding the cube proved to be exhausting and unproductive. In the end he opted to roll it, and with one final heave, it flopped over onto the button. Once again, the exit made itself known – followed by a slow, sharp clapping.

"Congratulations! You've finally completed the first test." The voice spoke up again, sounding less than enthusiastic.

"Unfortunately it was a below average-performance for test subjects of your age and fitness bracket. Most subjects were able to complete this chamber in two minutes or less. You, on the other hand, completed it in nineteen minutes and thirty four seconds. That's nearly ten times longer than the average. Not that this is a competition. If it were, you'd be winning at taking the longest time to figure out a simple test."

Embarrassed, but too tired from the physical exertion to do much about it, he reluctantly trudged on to the next area, where a large pneumatic tube ran from the floor into the ceiling. Inside it was a cylindrical capsule he presumed was an elevator.

"The elevator will take you to the next test chamber. Mind the gap."

No kidding. There was a small space between the elevator and the wall of the glass tube that allowed him to see below, but he couldn't tell just how far down it went. He swallowed a lump in his throat and boarded. The glass tube sealed shut and up went the elevator with a lurch, causing him to scramble for something to hold onto.

In moments it stopped at the next floor, and the tube re-opened, allowing him to stumble back out.

"This next test will be more difficult than the last. Just remember what you did in the previous chamber, and apply that knowledge to the current test."

At the far side of the room, he saw another door behind a wall of glass. On either side of it were another cube and button – also surrounded by glass enclosures.

This was going to take a while.

* * *

Far off in the central-AI chamber, GLaDOS hung from her usual perch, monitoring the second test chamber as her latest "subject" desperately tried to complete the test. She knew that in a couple of chambers there'd be an opportunity for him to break one (or more) of his legs – preferably more – and beyond that, he'd need to acquire the handheld portal device if he was to proceed.

She only wished she didn't have to give it to him, but that was a risk she'd have to take if she was to go through with this plan. She hadn't given him long fall boots but that wouldn't become a problem until later. As much as she knew she wasn't supposed to do anything that might skew the test results, she could justify using him as a control.

There was no record of a subject going through the chambers with no boots or advanced knee replacements before, was there?

*BEEP*

Not anymore.

Her last subject had been banished to the surface some time ago, and part of her still resented the stubborn girl for leaving behind such a mess.

Still, no matter how big of a mess Chell had made during her time at the facility, it didn't compare to the extensive damage done by that stupid, chattering little robot when he took over her body. Chell had done some damage – and even tried to murder her on at least one occasion, but Wheatley had nearly killed the three of them, taking the entire facility with them.

If one was a firecracker, the other was a pipe bomb.

A pipe bomb filled with nitroglycerine for good measure.

She'd rebuilt what she could, but certain areas had to be – let's just say they were "improvised" in order to function as they once had – as evidenced by the chamber her subject was currently puzzling out. There had once been a door that lead from the first chamber to the second.

Luckily, she still had _plenty_ of panels at her disposal, as well as a nanobot construction crew. They had been _vital_ to restoring the chambers to proper working order – or as close as they could get given what they had to work with. As brilliant and as all-powerful as she was, GLaDOS had limited mobility, and no arms outside of the robotic ones tucked away under the chamber floor. Not that it bothered her when things were running smoothly – which they most certainly had NOT been lately.

She really _hated_ that moron.

GLaDOS had been eagerly planning the details of his "punishment" before he was sucked out into space during the final confrontation. It was a shame she wouldn't get to throw him in the incinerator, or freeze him in the cryo-wing, or leave him in the room where the robots scream at you – she'd especially been looking forward to that one.

She could've put HIM in a potato battery and given him to one of the birds to stab and peck at. That would've been entertaining as well. But alas, as long as he remained outside the facility, he was outside her grasp.

She couldn't touch him.

What a killjoy.

Of course, she had enough test subjects now to keep her busy for years to come – thanks to Orange and Blue, but she still resented the fact that she hadn't had a chance to make that _moron_ suffer. Oh well.

* * *

He'd been able to figure his way through the buttons more quickly this time. The ones in this chamber weren't nearly as large as the first one, and they were mounted on freestanding pedestals of sorts, rather than needing a cube to place on top of each one of them. They didn't even need to be constantly depressed in order to keep the way ahead. That was a plus. Good on whoever designed this room for thinking of that!

Portals were a new element, but for some reason – like the buttons and cubes – they also seemed familiar, as if they were yet another piece to a larger puzzle. Whichever button he pushed caused a portal to open, which he'd then be able to access from another portal that appeared below the ledge he'd climbed down from as he came in.

Behind one of the glass enclosures he recovered a cube, and rolled it through each portal – towards his ultimate goal. He required plenty of breaks to catch his breath, and by the end of the test he was damp with fresh sweat. There was no comment on his handiwork this time, so he just proceeded to the exit, where he was greeted with a second elevator shaft that was identical to the first. Uncomfortable drop and all.

The next chamber was partitioned with a glass wall, on the other side of which was a podium holding a white device that spat out balls of light at regular intervals.

 _Oh brilliant! You did find the portal gun!_

Of course! That's what it was!

No sooner had he recalled that than he was overcome by a splitting headache, and the floor rushed up to meet him.

* * *

" _Oh brilliant! You did find the portal gun!"_

 _On the opposite side of the crumbling chamber wall, a young woman in an orange jumpsuit was carrying a white gun, which she'd acquired after tumbling down into a partially-flooded maintenance area when the floor gave out beneath her. Only now had she met up with the chattering little robot again, the same one who'd rescued her from the long-term relaxation vault._

" _You know what? It just goes to show you-" He chirped. "People with brain damage are the real heroes at the end, aren't they? Brave!"_

 _Just then, an orange portal flickered to life on a stray panel that happened to rest on the floor in front of her._

" _Pop a portal on that wall behind me there, and I'll meet you on the other side of the room."_

* * *

As his eyes cracked open, he was greeted with the gentle ambient hum of the test chamber. He felt strangely energized, like someone had opened a window and allowed the fresh air to waft in so he could breathe easier. As he sat up, something shiny glinted in the corner of his eye. Curious, he scooted over to examine it.

On the floor lay a pair of spectacles, which he fiddled with a bit before trying them on. The difference was night and day! Well, not quite night and day, but he could see finer details like tile edges and the subtle grit to the floor tiles. It was no wonder he'd been scraping himself so much.

He alternated between taking off the glasses and putting them back on a few times to compare and contrast the effects they had on his vision, which in the end were overwhelmingly positive. Granted, pushing large cubes onto conspicuously placed red buttons was _hardly_ precision work, but he still didn't know how he'd gone without for so long. If he'd continued past this point, he may never have suspected something was off. Still though, this was helpful.

He didn't know where the glasses had come from, but as long as they allowed him to get a clearer picture, he wasn't going to bother to ask questions. They fit perfectly as well, not too loose or too tight. It was as if they were made just for him.

The current chamber was more complex than the last, in that it required him to wait for a portal to appear on the wall before he could access it. He took care to steer clear of the ball of light it discharged, not knowing what it would do to him if he got hit by it. With careful timing, he stepped out into the main part of the chamber, and approached the podium.

There lay the portal gun in all its glory, as if it had been waiting for him. Carefully, he lifted it off the podium.

"I see you've acquired the portal device, good job. This is expensive equipment, so try not to break it or you might find yourself stuck in a test chamber." The voice didn't sound happy at all. If he was honest, he thought he detected some venom in the previous statement.

With the gun no longer automatically generating portals on it's own (how had it been doing that anyway?) it would be up to him to get the job done from now on. He was able to locate the trigger and surprised himself with the kickback, but successfully placed a portal on the wall. Now all he'd have to do was learn to aim.


	2. Somebody Really Hates Me

Having the portal gun proved to be a boon for two reasons: he could reduce the distance between himself and the button, and the gun had a secondary trigger that somehow caused whatever he pointed it at to levitate. That meant less physical exertion as he was no longer trying to roll a heavy cube across chambers.

He was so relieved he could cry – and he did, just a bit. Progressing through the chambers would be so much easier now. He never wanted to go back!

In the next chamber, he bypassed a shallow pit by putting a portal on the wall nearby and coming out on the other side. Without the gun, he would've had to climb down and try to get back up. He repeated this procedure once within the chamber as he encountered yet another pit. This one was slightly deeper, and for some reason had stairs descending into it but there wasn't much point if he had the portal gun on hand.

At the end of each chamber he got into an elevator that would take him to the next one, silently resenting it the entire time. All he could see was the glass getting cracked or smashed into tiny, sharp crystals. Then the elevator would plummet to the bottom of the shaft, wherever that may be. He was always happy to disembark.

In one chamber, a cube was dropped into a shallow pit, where he wouldn't normally be able to get at it without jumping down and hefting it out. Times like that made him appreciate the portal gun even more, knowing that he couldn't hope to lift the cube much higher than his chest without fall or injury. Instead, the cube tumbled out of a portal carefully placed on the other side of the room, and fell directly on the button. He barely had to do anything!

In another, two cubes rested on high platforms, while another sat at the bottom of a pit. No longer a bother. He popped a portal on the wall and strolled through with the first cube, repeating the process until all three cubes sat on a button and the path opened in front of him.

Overall, he found himself in much better spirits. He was particularly glad that he no longer had to contend with the pit of death!

He was doing alright until he encountered a small room, and once again the door shut tight behind him. It was then he realized that it – the room – was completely empty. There were no buttons, no cubes, no switches or levers. Just a blindingly white room and a glass ceiling.

Not this again.

His day had finally turned around and what did he have to show for it now? Nothing! That's what. Nothing but an empty room - although the glass ceiling was a nice decorative touch - and now there was an orange portal on the ceiling above that and–

Oh.

It was high.

Probably too high.

It should come as no surprise what happened next.

Leaning inside one portal while the other was on a ceiling hadn't been a particularly smart idea. He tried to duck and roll, but ended up knocking his head against a wall anyway. Impressive as it was that the glass hadn't so much cracked on impact, both his ego and his body suffered some bruising.

Weren't there other test subjects who could be doing this instead of him? Had he ever signed up to test in the first place? Regardless, the only option was to carry on to the next chamber and hope for the best. But for now, he really just wanted to rest for a moment or two.

He hoped he'd find something to eat soon.

* * *

GLaDOS had to admit, her new subject was finally beginning to grasp the basic rules of the tests.

He'd even figured out how to use the portal gun, and (so far) hadn't done anything overly stupid with it, like amputating a limb – or decapitation. Surprising, actually. She almost wondered how well he'd do in the intermediate chambers.

No, that was a bad idea.

She'd allowed herself a quick test – which then became a few quick tests – if only to watch him fail miserably and lose his nerve. But eventually, she WAS going to need him. No matter how entertaining it was to torture him in this way, she couldn't do it forever. But maybe she could afford to send him through a few more chambers, there was time for that at least.

One way or another, he'd have to swing by her chamber eventually.

* * *

 _The woman and the robot had each made their way to the Central AI chamber, after sabotaging both the turret production line and the neurotoxin generator. The robot had assured that this would render the homicidal AI they were up against harmless._

" _Warning! Central core is 80% corrupt." The announcer warned._

" _That's funny, I don't feel corrupt. In fact, I feel pretty good!"_

" _Alternate core detected."_

" _Oh! That's me they're talking about!" The little robot chirped excitedly._

" _To initiate core-transfer, please place substitute core in receptacle."_

 _At that moment, a large port rose up out of the floor._

" _Core transfer? Oh, you've got to be kidding!"_

* * *

He'd fallen asleep again, and had another dream about the woman in the jumpsuit. Strange. He really needed to avoid dozing off against walls in the future. Now he was all stiff and uncomfortable, not to mention he was still sore from his earlier crash-landing. As convenient as interspace doorways were, gravity still posed an immediate danger, and the hard floors didn't make it much better. Whose brilliant idea had it been to put a hard tiled floor under a drop like that anyway? Why couldn't they have used something softer? Like a springy mattress or some pillows?

That would've made sense, especially considering he'd been sleeping there for a spell - how long was anyone's guess. He hadn't seen any clocks the entire time he'd been here.

What he did see, was a conveniently placed can of beans that he was fairly certain hadn't been there before. He immediately went to work trying to open it, which proved to be tricky without the use of any sort of utensil. He tried banging it against the floor, throwing it at the wall, and even dropping it through a portal. All that did was put a few dents in it. Not holes. He needed holes!

As a last resort, he tried scraping the lid of the can on the floor.

Surprisingly, this filed away the seal, and the lid popped off when he gave the can a squeeze. Huh, that one was a long shot. Oh well, a victory was a victory, and all be damned if he wasn't about to celebrate it!

Not wasting any time, he devoured every last bean in the can - he didn't even care that they were cold. It was a bit messy without a fork or a spoon, but beans are messy at the best of times. He didn't have a napkin either, so it looked like the jumpsuit was making another sacrifice. Who was he going to impress? As far as he knew, he was the only one here - aside from that mysterious voice, of course.

Satisfied, he left the can where it was and continued on his way. There were no rubbish bins, so he didn't feel too guilty for the mess. Someone would probably come around and deal with that _eventually._

* * *

In the next chamber, a nozzle on the ceiling spat out balls of light at regular intervals and after a while they seemed to "pop" and disappear. He also noticed that there were scorch marks on the floor where they made contact. Not ominous in any way, really. On the floor nearby was another device with metal prongs, like a claw. An exit had been placed high up off the floor on the far side of the room.

"You'll be happy to know that this chamber doesn't require you to jump from a high place, but should you decide you want to repeat that last incident for old time's sake, please sit the portal gun down somewhere safe, so you that don't land on it by mistake. The test subject after you is going to need that in working order."

They just _had_ to rub it in. He scowled.

"Oh, and I wouldn't touch those high-energy pellets if I were you, even if they are shiny."

He watched one bounce between the nozzle on the ceiling and the scorched floor tile below, almost entranced. This was obviously a new kind of test, but he wasn't sure he understood the point. Here was this thing that spat out pellets, and this other claw-thing that didn't seem to do much of anything. It just sat there, unmoving, and the pellets just bounced up and down, up and down, up and- wow, this really was hypnotic, wasn't it?

He was startled when an orange portal appeared on the floor where the pellets were scorching it.

He paused. In previous chambers, a portal had automatically appeared on one of the walls, and connected to those he'd placed himself, like some kind of hint that he was supposed to pop out on that side of the room. He fired an experimental portal on the floor nearby, and noticed that the pellet traveled through the orange portal and out of the blue one, bouncing off the ceiling and blackening the white tile where it did. Interesting.

He fired another portal, and the pellet came out in a different place, creating yet another black mark on the ceiling. This was kind of fun! What would happen if he moved the portal before the pellet could go back in? Soon enough, there were all kinds of black marks on the ceiling, and even some on the floor. The nozzle didn't fire a new pellet until the one prior had disappeared, so this process took some time.

"You know, on average, most subjects lost interest in doing. whatever it is you're doing at the three minute mark. You on the other hand have demonstrated a surprisingly long attention span, while simultaneously wasting over forty minutes of your life. It's a shame, really. You're never going to get that back. I hope it was worth it."

He scoffed. Why did the voice have to be such a killjoy? Oh well. At least it was amusing while it lasted.

Wait a minute, had he tried sending the pellet at the claw yet? It was probably the only thing he hadn't bounced a pellet off of today, so maybe it was some sort of receptacle?

So he placed a portal on the ceiling to test it out. The pellet was off-target by a few inches, so it took a couple of tries, but he eventually got the portal placement right and sent it in. The "claw" then folded up, and a few panels rose up out've the floor, forming a staircase to the exit, which he happily strolled right up to the elevator.

* * *

The next chamber was even more bothersome than the last.

There was another high-energy pellet puzzle, and a raised platform on the far wall that looked to be on a track. The exit was off to the right, opposite where the platform was currently waiting. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to be able to reach either one, as there were no ramps, stairs or ladders of any sort. It would've been nice if he could've ridden the platform up to the exit, but nope! That was out've reach as well.

A portal opened up in the middle of the floor, and a high-energy pellet fizzled it's way across the room, bouncing off the opposite wall. He was reminded of how he'd used the portal in the previous chamber to redirect the pellet into a clawed receptacle, and what luck! There was another one on the ceiling in this room, directly above the portal. If that wasn't a hint, then what was?

So he fired a portal where the pellet scorched the tile, and waited for it to fly through. It found the receptacle, and the platform begin to slowly move back and forth along its track, crossing directly in front of the doorway as it did. That was something, but there was still no way up to the platform or the exit. Had he missed something?

He could grab the moving platform - an advantage offered by his height - but since he couldn't pull himself up, he was stuck riding it from one side of the room to the other. It might've been fun if it wasn't making his arms tired. Plan A status: foiled. That left Plan B - whenever he came up with something.

It would be so easy to walk off the platform to the exit, like stepping off a train when it reached the station. Then he'd be on his merry way, but he _had_ to be stuck down here. The whole thing was such a tease!

He sighed. This day just kept getting better and better.

* * *

If GLaDOS could, she would've frowned.

From her surveillance feed, she could see the confusion in his face. This chamber was probably going to be another long one.

He hadn't exactly been blessed with Chell's sharp observation, or her quick problem-solving abilities. That had been established long ago. It was probably a good thing he hadn't run into any turrets yet. The poor idiot would be swiss cheese and her plans would be ruined, so she had to be careful to keep him alive - at least until he made it to her chamber.

How bothersome.

In the meantime, she busied herself with the remaining preparations; she wanted everything to be perfect when he finally arrived. She'd even weighed the pros and cons of shuffling a few chambers around to create a more direct route for him, since she couldn't help with the tests - not directly. She'd made enough dubious compromises just getting him in here.

She tried to remind herself that soon she'd see the payoff.

She'd get to see the look on his face.

* * *

He almost wished he'd kept the can of beans, so he'd have something to fling around. Instead he was sitting on the floor, fiddling with the portal gun. There wasn't anything else on his person, aside from that and his glasses. Neither were things he particularly wanted to break or lose. Still, being stuck in this chamber without a solution was utterly mind-numbing!

He hated even to think it, but at least falling through the portal had been easier than-

Hold on.

He fired a tentative portal on the ceiling, and looked down through the one in the floor. Sure enough, he could see the platform as it passed underneath. If he fell through at the right time, he might be able to land on it. He frowned, not liking where this was going.

How many other blokes had been thrown about like this?

On the first pass, he chickened out and had to wait for the platform to make a return trip. During that time, he prepared himself to make the jump.

Firm grip on the portal gun: check.

Glasses secure: check.

" _Okay, on three._ " He thought.

The platform reached the end of the track, and was beginning to make its way back to the door.

One.

Now it was halfway across the room.

Two.

Almost in position.

Three!

He leapt through the portal, landing in a crouched position - and fell backward off the platform. Dazed, he looked up from the floor as the platform went back to the starting point - mocking him. He glowered. It wasn't as high as the previous chamber, but this floor was about as soft as the other one. Soft as concrete, and it hurt just the same.

Returning to the portal, he allowed the platform to pass under him a few times before he finally worked up the nerve to make another attempt. This time, he fell forward, but didn't roll off like before.

But the platform was already beginning to move back to the other side of the room, and farther away from the exit. He could've stayed on it until it moved back into place, but he was feeling particularly bold and decided to attempt the jump. This was a big mistake, as he landed splat on the edge with his legs dangling.

This left him with two options: haul himself up and over, or let go and try again. Option one was looking safer.

He struggled to get his right leg up, and succeeded as the platform drew near enough to bump the other leg, and before he realized what was happening, he was being pushed into a split. If there had been anyone else in the room, they would've seen his eyes go wide as saucers, and an apparent burst of adrenaline that allowed him to pull himself up just before the panel pushed him too far and something was dislocated.

He stumbled forward, catching himself before he could face-plant, and hissed as a dull, throbbing pain blossomed in his left thigh, suggesting a pulled muscle or a strain. Instead of proceeding to the elevator, he took a moment to lean against the wall and rest.

"Are you stopping to _again_?" Said the voice, exasperated. "Look, I _am_ going to need you to pick up the pace. I _do_ need this test data soon, and you're holding up the other test subjects."

Oh, bugger off already!

What he wanted was to crawl off somewhere and lie there until his body sorted itself out, but the omnipresent voice in the sky obviously had other plans.

Reluctantly, he stood up and preceded towards the elevator, cursing everything he had to put up with, starting with that stupid electronic voice! How were they making it sound like that anyway? A voice changer? What was the point of that? Was it some feature built into the P.A. System – where everyone who used the microphone sounded like an annoying robot? Or was someone just THAT pretentious?

 _I did this!_

He didn't doubt that whoever was guiding him through here was having a laugh at his little misstep earlier, snickering with a coworker over coffee and doughnuts when he couldn't find so much as a properly functioning toilet. It made his blood boil just thinking about it.

 _I've done nothing but sacrifice to get us here. What have you sacrificed? NOTHING!_

How difficult could their job possibly be anyway? Sitting up there, talking down on people who were just trying to finish the tests and get out of here…were they so bored that they felt the need to take it out on him? Were they just so bitter about their nine-to-five that they felt the need to treat him like a moron?

 _All you've done is boss me around!_

If it were him in charge, he wouldn't be this unprofessional – dropping heavy cubes on people and calling it an accident, or making fun of them for stumbling and hurting themselves. He'd do his job, and he'd do it efficiently. Politely, even. Professionals have _standards_ , or at least they should.

And they definitely _shouldn't_ have a plan to kill everyone they meet! That's just mental sickness!

No sooner had the glass tube sealed up. then A loud BOOM shook the entire chamber, causing the elevator to lurch and him to fall to the floor. His anger was quickly forgotten, replaced by a growing sense of terror as he noticed a crack in the glass, then another, and another, and pretty soon the glass was covered in cracks.

"Do you have ANY idea how good this feels? _"_ A male voice boomed, startling him.

The elevator lurched again, and he clamped his eyes shut, silently praying to whoever would be listening that the elevator wouldn't drop.

He felt the elevator move again; it was going down, but slowly. All he could do was watch – too terrified to move – as it lowered into a large room. From the high ceiling hung some huge, serpentine mechanical device. This was the thing he'd dreamed about the past few times he'd stopped to rest. It was real!?

"I DID this!" The voice snapped again.

"What are you doing in there?"

Huh?

He opened his eyes and looked around. The room and the strange machine were both gone, and the elevator was still in one piece. The doors were open, waiting for him to step out. It was as if none of this had happened. How–

"Well, I can't say it isn't common with test subjects, but you're a few chambers early to be having a breakdown." The voice explained, then added– "Or have you developed a sudden, inexplicable fear of being dropped down an elevator shaft? Statistically speaking, elevator accidents are more likely to occur inside elevators."

A cold sweat broke out on his skin, and he shivered.

* * *

She'd seen the terror in his eyes.

It had been evident from the start that the pneumatic elevators made him nervous from the start. She'd caught him peeking down the gaps several times, no doubt trying to figure out how deep the shaft was. Several of the other test subjects had done the very same thing. Some weren't all that bothered by the depth, and were merely curious. Others needed some gentle persuasion to curb their hesitation. None of them could've known that it went down for thousands of feet, down into the depths of old Aperture.

Yet this time, something had visibly spooked him. He'd collapsed to the floor of the elevator, as if he'd lost his balance, and began to shiver. Then he'd appeared disoriented as if he'd just woken up from a nightmare, despite the fact that none of the cameras indicated the presence of any external threat. Perhaps it was a hallucination.

Or a flashback.

Ah, that made sense. GLaDOS had suspected this would happen. Temporary amnesia was common among test subjects who'd been in cryosleep for long periods of time. It was curious that an elevator would trigger such an episode, the irony was laughable.

This "experiment" was proving to be more satisfying than she'd imagined.

* * *

He hadn't even entered the next chamber before he smelled an offensive odour – sewage? – wafting through the door and making him wrinkle his nose. If he hadn't been busy trying not to gag he might've been surprised, because in the first chamber he'd been given the impression that the large circular doors were airtight. Apparently everything in this place was built on broken dreams.

"I trust you've learned not to repeat that last falling-off-the-platform incident, because if you fall in this chamber, you'll end up in toxic liquid."

They never stopped rubbing it in, did they?

"Don't give me that look, it's perfectly safe. In fact, only 0.6% of test subjects that made physical contact with the toxic liquid suffered from a severe allergic reaction. 17.4% reported a mild burning sensation that went away after several hours. The remaining 82% of test subjects simply drowned when they fell in. Think of it this way, as long as you don't decide to go for a swim, you can avoid a bad rash."

The bottom of this chamber was flooded with a brownish-green substance. This must be the aforementioned 'liquid', he guessed. The smell of it was somewhere between pungent and putrid, burning at the insides of his nostrils as he got close. He sincerely hoped that this was the only chamber of its kind. If not, he wondered if he'd ever be able to smell properly again!

There were two platforms in this room: one off to the left, and another on the right. To his left was another nozzle spitting out high-energy pellets – which he only noticed when one sputtered past, and a receptacle by the platform on the right. Essentially, it was a re-hash of the previous chamber, this time with the added hazard of toxic fluid, whatever that actually was. He wasn't sure he wanted to know.

No, he _definitely_ didn't want to know.

A portal opened up by the platform on the left. He placed his own portal at the far side of the room where the pellet had made a scorch on the wall, and waited for one to fly through. It worked, but the pellet had come out in the wrong place, adding a new scorch mark on the wall beside its target.

He frowned. That was no good.

If the pellet didn't pop out where he intended, it dawned on him that he might be able to redirect it mid flight, like he'd been doing when he couldn't figure out the first pellet puzzle he'd encountered. A part of him felt proud of himself for figuring something out that he wasn't supposed to use for another couple of tests. That is, until he tried to put that plan into action. On one occasion, he'd fumbled so badly with his portal placement that he actually had to duck to avoid a pellet as it fizzled overhead.

" _Probably shouldn't keep messing around then._ " He thought.

Finally, he managed to get the timing right and sink the pellet into the receptacle, and just as in the previous chamber, the platform began to move along it's track to the exit and back. He put a portal on the wall nearest himself, and stepped out on the ledge on what had been the left side of the room as he'd come in. From there, he fired a portal across the room to where the platform would pass by and waited.

This time, he was happy to be able to step onto the platform rather than fall on it and hope he didn't miss or bounce off. The toxic liquid below made him incredibly nervous, and he almost panicked when the movement of the platform upset his balance – flailing his arms wildly. Fortunately, he managed to stabilize and promptly disembarked at the far end.

* * *

"No-one will blame you if you can't solve this next test." Said the voice. "It's no big deal, you'll just have the rest of your miserable existence to ruminate on how you failed. By the way, did you know that dying with regrets is the leading cause of ghosts?"

What a morbid and depressing thought.

In the far left corner was a high platform – the highest platform he'd encountered so far – and a pre-placed orange portal, further indicating where he needed to go. To the right was a large black tiled wall with an open door, through which he could clearly see a large red button. He'd probably have to place a cube on that, but where was the cube?

Once again, a loud *clunk* from behind startled him.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't think I'd miss you a second time. Whoops!"

They had to be joking with him. That was it. They were just _pretending_ they were going to murder him. Maybe it was part of the test? Otherwise– He really didn't want to think about that, and moved to take the cube through the doorway.

Except, the cube disintegrated into nothing when it hit the threshold, leaving him completely dumbfounded. Another cube appeared with a clunk where the first one had originally sat. He couldn't fire a portal through the door either, and walking through it caused any portals he'd previously placed to disappear. It didn't matter if he tried to go through forwards, backwards or sideways!

After several frustrating attempts, he found himself on the high platform to retrieve yet another cube, only this time he noticed a small hole in the black wall, through which he could see the white wall on the other side. He fired a portal through that, but couldn't help but notice how high off the ground it was.

Not wanting to jump, he portalled back down to the floor, taking the cube with him. It was then he noticed that the hole above the door was approximately cube-sized, and got an idea.

It took a few tries, but he was just tall enough to be able to put the cube through the hole. He supposed shorter test subjects would've had more difficulty traversing this chamber, and was somewhat pleased about his height advantage. At first, it seemed to be stuck, but after some fiddling, he got it through. From there, he stepped through the door, re-acquired the cube and deposited it on the button. Satisfied with his efforts, he continued onward.

"Did you know, some ghosts are reported to be able to manipulate electronics? Not that you'd know for certain unless you became one. It's just as well, I can't have ghosts trapped in the facility for eternity, and neither of us wants to deal with an exorcism."

* * *

In the next chamber, a set of stairs lead to the elevator, but the last few had been raised up. A couple of panels on the upper wall opposite the stairs had been pushed forward, and an orange portal appeared there. His first instinct was to place his own portal on the other side of the gap and walk over, but then there was the matter of reaching the portal above. Did they expect him to jump the gap?

 _Why don't you just do it?_

He scoffed. How stupid did they think he was?

 _Trust me, it's an easier way out than whatever asinine plan your friend came up with._

The stairs were high, but not THAT high. He'd probably still be able to climb up and over without using the portal at all. Then it was a straight shot to the exit. It was a cheaty solution – not to mention uncomfortable with a sore leg but it was probably for the best. Trying to land on a moving platform was precarious enough. He didn't want to add tripping and falling down a set of stairs to his list of mishaps.

"This was an. interesting solution." Said the voice disdainfully. "It seems your 'height advantage' has allowed you to completely circumvent the use of portals in this chamber. I'll have to make a note of that for later."

Funny, he thought she'd at least be upset that he cheated. Shrugging it off, he kept moving.

To his surprise, in the next room lay a very wide, very deep tiled pit. He gulped. It had to have been more than ten feet, not that he had any measuring equipment available to test that hypothesis. As in the previous chamber, a pre-placed portal sat on the wall high above his head. It soon became evident what the intended solution was, as there was no way to get around the pit other than soaring over it, which would require considerable momentum to achieve.

Presumably he'd have to jump off the ledge, soar across the chamber and–

No.

Just no.

He'd avoided the previous jump because he was still favouring his leg, but this one looked high enough to do him a much more serious injury with or without that holding him back. The portal was at least twice as high off the ground, don't even get him started on the pit! If he fell down there he wouldn't be getting out without help. He backed away from the ledge and folded his arms in protest

Who designed this room? Were they out of their bloody mind? So many things can go wrong when you're flying over a pit, even if it isn't deep enough to be considered a bottomless pit of death. For one, there was falling. Falling wouldn't be fun for anyone, because it tended to be followed by an impact against a hard surface. Despite his best efforts, wishing for a fluffy mattress to materialize hadn't been fruitful either, and he was beginning to feel quite bitter about it.

"I see you hesitating." Said the voice. "You didn't honestly think you'd be able to cheat your way out of this chamber as well, did you?"

He stared at his feet awkwardly. If he was honest, he had been hoping to find an exploit, if only a tiny one.

"For what it's worth, you've already far surpassed the low expectations I had for you. If you want to stop, stay where you are and a party-escort will retrieve you shortly."

He scoffed. It was about time! These tests required quick thinking and incredible stamina. You'd have to be an _olympian_ or a soldier to be able to make it through. He hoped there was a superior he could complain to when he got out, or so help him! God, he was just so– so _livid_!

 _The irony is that you were almost at the last test._

At the same time, there was a growing sense of guilt.

 _You didn't do anything._

–like he'd let someone down.

 _She did all the work!_

His breath hitched.

 _She._

Images of the woman in the jumpsuit flashed before his eyes – the same one from his dreams – and the robot that seemed to accompany her everywhere. Popping out from behind panels, guiding her along the catwalks, newly attached to a large chassis, summoning an elevator, smashing it to a pulp–

– the terror in her eyes –

* * *

" _I know you."_

" _Sorry, what?" The robot snapped._

 _"The engineers tried everything to make me. behave. To slow me down. Once, they even attached an Intelligence Dampening Sphere on me. It clung to my brain like a tumor, generating an endless stream of terrible ideas."_

 _"No! I'm not listening! I'm not listening!"_

 _"It was YOUR voice."_

 _"No! No! You're LYING! You're LYING!"_

 _"Yes. You're the tumor._ "

" _You're not just a regular moron. You were DESIGNED to be a moron!_ "

 _"I am NOT-A-MORON!"_

" _YES YOU ARE! YOU'RE THE MORON THEY BUILT TO MAKE ME AN IDIOT!_ "

 _"Well, how about now? NOW WHO'S A MORON?"_

 _"Could a MORON PUNCH-YOU-INTO-THIS-PIT?" As he screamed, a robotic arm came crashing down on the glass elevator, cracking the glass and crumpling it down into the shaft. "Huh? Could a moron do THAT?" The elevator groaned, then finally gave up it's struggle to gravity, taking the woman inside with it._

* * *

His headache was back, and more intense than ever. The fluorescent light was suddenly too harsh, and he had to cover his eyes to try and block it out. But, try as he might, he couldn't fight off the visions of her, the unnamed woman in the orange jumpsuit like his own.

"I was going to ask you to assume the party-submission-position, but it looks like you've gone right ahead. Nice hustle on your part. Or was it because you wanted to squeeze in one last nap?" He wasn't listening, opting instead to curl up into a ball. "Anyway, you'll be happy to know that you'll get the chance to take one soon. A long one. You've earned it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some last-minute preparations to attend to."

He didn't care, he was too busy trying to shut out the world.

* * *

If she'd been looking for a reason to cut the test short, perhaps this would do. As amusing as his earlier misstep had been, the AI's desire for him to get his act together and come strolling into the chamber – or limping, limping also worked – was growing stronger by the passing hour.

She'd watched her subject grow more confused and disheartened with each passing chamber, as she'd planned. Now more than ever, it was apparent that he lacked Chell's drive and determination. If she could've, she'd have grinned from ear to ear. It was just so _fitting_ that he'd throw in the towel! After all the boasting and building himself up, it was so easy to cut him down.

And so, GLaDOS made a note, that the "experiment" was by all accounts, a huge success.

Now she could proceed with her _real_ plans.


End file.
